The Fish

Who fathoms to dare more than a fish in those gloomy,
unfriendly waters of sin and loneliness. Water green and cold,
deceiving in every possible movement -
immeasurable.

The body moves on; in search of the unknown - no it’s not the
search, anticipation of it, hidden desire,
an adventure.
That tingle of excitement and half naked fear in deep murkiness.

The twirls of dust and disgust rising from the vast deep,
making the surrounding and the distant ever
unclear.
The fish challenged, unmitigated, fins clenched with seething
amber, moves on; the wake visible and seeping moments later,
indistinguishable.
Lost forever.

Who, but path bears the burden of the lost, defeated and
those aimless travelers. Never recognizing him again;
never remembering to forget.

The fish is gone to the unknowns and the way lost.
Someday another fish who would fathom the dare will come
into these murky waters -
with twirls of disgust.
She shall make a new path
only to lose it,
once again.

PS : My first attempt of writing which barely only I can call as poetry.

In the absence of my thoughts lies the greatest presence of my being.

The guilt guilds me in a
crown of shame -
My ego is too tall; I
can't hide my face in knees
for the same.

Neither death nor hope
can put an end,
all in vain.
I shall live the hell of eternity
and kill the albatross
to drink the blood of life,
pain.

From the sands of time
loud and grand
Fell a grain
with infinity in hand

Undaunted I rose, to walk the emptiness
with all the might
I can.

In eternity, came the point as an end
to ponder and bend.
alas ! here is where the time
stopped and once -
began.

A figment of imagination crossed my mind
with a wake of thorns
and a tense jerk behind.

I cede now, only to stop
look and smile,
for it to find
that one day the veil will
be broken and the roles exchanged
as a measure of repay -

in kind.

the maids

.....and it ended with Claire drinking the cup of tea with 9 sleeping pills. An end act performed at the incisive push from 'the only justifiable direction' based on the plays premises. The only repercussion possible at a nearing dead end. Tiresome monologue of Solange about her rejection of virtues and mismatched social perspective, giving way to Claire's relieve from the same.

Circles are always vicious. And so can be reasoning. The familiarizing repeated rounds of run and endless juggles of arguments converge at a common point- infinity. This was the basic idea behind this magnificent play ( says sartre ) of course, sprinkled all over with existentialist reckonings ( I concede ).

Just finished reading it. Took sometime to read and little more to digest. Now it's your time to read it. I have a void in my brain.

The colour of her hands melted
and wrinkles of the face ran a twine
Not a ray of hope crossed her path
for her falling eyes to rise and shine...

while blogging

A few things ( do's/don't - think/nothinks ) I keep in, while writing a blog. Have got them mixed though. Of course, won't make the lame mistake of listing any opposites point together for obvious lame reason.

1. Have to write good.
2. Has to be in good english
3. Use the autocorret option or not.
4. Think in english and write in hindi or the other way round.
5. Think of a word and then try to use it in sentence and then develop an idea.
6. Think
7. Think hard.
8. Introspect and contemplate the incomprehensible.
9. Deliberately allow to brain to conjure abstract images and them observe it from multiple perspectives.
10. To think of something novel and remind myself not to forget it and then reinforce it with the same thought 31/2 times.
11. Attempt to display some sense in sense of humour. ( And then even think of the cliche ' Humour explained is humour lost ' )
12. To catch a phrase mid-air and then try to make it into a sentence by growing it a head and a tail, all in vain.
13. Keep shaking my legs .
14. Introspect if I really have to write this or for that matter write anything itself.
15. Godelian numbering.
16. The irony of the article.

An incomplete story

Disclaimer:

Its incomplete.

Dont know if I will be finishing it.

Quite a few errors.

....................................................................

After the world ends there comes a moment, a moment of silence and
long uncertainty, before the cycle of rebirth turns the wheel again.
The remnants of the past wander in indiscernible mist of aimless
being. Everything unorganized and without a purpose. Memories, torn
apart; Souls, torn apart. Only the elements move in a desperate
search and hope to meet accidentally what it longs the most. The
cosmic dust constantly moving, brushing against each other, along
showing signs of recognition, an acknowledgement, or merely
exchanging the passing of the moment - ofcourse nothing defines it,
they just say anything. The state of confusion and breaking hope
seems eternal. But chance favor the lost souls whose love have
outlived their lives and many a lifetimes. Their union was
inevitable. This was to happen .

They, who were destined to %%%%
even before they met for the first time on the rocky beaches of
kanyakumari. The moonlight trying hard to rip the water off the
earth's surface just to quench its eternal thirst. The spectacle
unchanging and constantly inspiring. His eyes fell on her, not met
yet to be suspended in emptiness - with either of them oblivious
of the raging time and complaining space, rather examining in a casual
sort of way, unintrusive yet thorough. He read the calm and the
silence in her eyes, which could hold the moments from passing by,
only to forget it for couple of days to come.

%ABC was his name. He was tall and reasonably built guy. A guy who
thought more of life than living. He liked going to the shores at
the twilight and see the waves slashing the waters . He liked the
constant determination which the slashing waves showed , ever
challenging and relentless, retreating only with a strong will to
hit the shore once again. He would sometimes look at the moon too
with pity at its beauty, sheer beauty. A rarity which people in
today's fast paced lives cannot stop by to see and think. He would
get confused sometimes if its the moon or the people he has to feel
pity for ? He could never come to an answer and wouldn't even think
much, instead look at the waves again to break the line of thought. He
even liked to think about the deepest questions, the sort everybody
likes to talk about with enthusiasm but no thought. They didn't make
much sense to him much, but liked the idea of thinking about them
and stuck with it, until she came as an answer to him. He thought
good about nature, more than the variety which it exhibited its the
grace with which they were executed he loved.

And then he thought of her, not dream though. Thought allowed
liberty and more importantly control. He could imagine with
infinite possibilities with what she could be, what he wanted her
to be. Dreams don't let you do that. You are fed by them,
subconsciously. He never liked dreaming much, for he couldn't change
what would happen in them.

She was 21 and liked drinking tea. For her life was matter of taste
rather than intention. Even she liked to gaze at the twilight
sea, unbounded and lively. Resting beside the wooden log, rough and
old with age, she would look at the receding light and the slow
unveiling of sky from it. The stars appearing over the sea. She
liked to see the whole act, atleast she thought that she does.
Nothing much, just the unveiling of raw beauty and it being thrown to
savages. Is beauty still beautiful without somebody to acknowledge it ?
She had the question spring in her mind, but she never wanted to
look into it , it didn't make sense to her much either. She was unaware
that his eyes were to fall on a raw beauty later; her. Until then
she would just look at the sea and feel happy. Happiness in its
most elemental form, not contrived and not passing through the
complex series reason and balancing. She had somehow learned with
time to bypass that stage, the processing and then the delivery.
This prevented her from thinking, and for in such things she preferred
absoluteness with no intervention of the mind. No wonder she liked
drinking tea and she was 21.

In these times life is too demanding, asking for what otherwise would
be called as \% . People trying hard , in never ending effort to
hold fast to it, only to find themselves in groping about
uncertainty and more oft than not to something not what they wanted
to. Its like catching the wrong train and after a while realizing so. Even this can be taken as with a tinge of surrealism, its only
when objective reality ratifies desertion of your dreams do people
come to senses. This is where the age old act of rationalization, not rationale, comes in; a defeated justification of an end act. He
has seen people doing this. People negotiating, rather begging to
their other mind for venturing into such far of lands; lands which
are distorted, lands which cant be called homes.

She was a Final year student and had taken arts in painting and
sculpture ,out of choice and not

.............................................

Random notes to myself ----------

In the story give the guys character building a kinda upslope .
His increasing awareness, conflicts and understanding reflected in
metaphorical examples. Changing philosophies, the depth of thought, attitude ,rejection towards people, idea of love etc .

The introduction of the girl in his life, give them some
premonition over the idea of the other before they actually speak.
Just look and imagine and the resulting impact on their thinking of
life, eachother and other people . .

Make allusions towards love, which they will fall into later, but
before that a lot goes on in their minds; the fear, a kind of
rejection suddenly springing in. And then the courage which builds
slowly and the feeling of absoluteness. They they fall in love
completely, everything takes a new meaning. Verbal discussion of
it has to be intense ( Think !!!! ) .

Bring in poetry thru analogy. Initially it would be unaffection,
and then slowly a state of confusion and then a moment of certainty
and confusion ( vacillating ) and finally absoluteness.

Try to convey love between the two, which is devoid of any
condition and yet is absolute, no worldly qualities are to be given
to the characters which will eventually give room to the characters
having a kinda doubt over each other.

He wanted to fall once and only once in love. Love so deep and intense that only sorrow and ineffable sense of life be left when ripped off it. The eternal trance of love, now left only to endure the reality around him. A tiny sparkle consumed by your inner self only to be shredded by the world outside. He knew that its not just some wonderful feeling to cherish for ur rest of your life , it was ......

They imagined and lived a life, intact of outside world the system the rules and contrived conventionality, of freedom ...............

The few earnest readers of this story and fewer still Romanticists.

Expression is what he had lost when he spoke to her for the first time Every passing moment making her presence feel stronger and stronger After sometime he was so overpowered with her presence that he couldnt hear anything she said; his mind went blank. Words coming out of his mouth made no sense, he was not aware of it though. Words devoid of content and meaning, yet spoken with a hope and......

At times you accidentally wake up early in the morning and discover that the sun is about to rise. Its a very mysterious feeling, when u look at it and think nothing rather just see at the grandness of it against ur feeblness. Its beautiful, and u know it. The ending of the dark night, the breaking of the first ray of light travelling through emptiness with unimaginable eagerness and speed.